


books of war

by honeydowo



Series: here we stand on opposing sides [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Explosions, Fire, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Other, Out of Character, Time Skips, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25868920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeydowo/pseuds/honeydowo
Summary: "Tommy", Wilbur says, "Don't you want freedom? No revolution becomes successful through peace. We have to fight for this."And he's right, isn't he? Wilbur's always been right.(He has to be right. Because there's no stopping what's to come, now.)
Relationships: None
Series: here we stand on opposing sides [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902847
Comments: 26
Kudos: 370





	books of war

**Author's Note:**

> TW // Blood, Violence, Angst, Fire & Spoilers for the Dream SMP War! 
> 
> Some events have been moved around for story purposes, so if anything doesn't match the original timeline, that's why!
> 
> Tommy also acts kinda ooc in this one, just a heads-up 😭

> _'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:_
> 
> _Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'_
> 
> _Nothing beside remains. Round the decay_
> 
> _Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare_
> 
> _The lone and level sands stretch far away'_
> 
> **_-Ozymandias, Percy Bysshe Shelley_ **

\---

_Tommy blinks._

_Someone is pointing a sword at him._

_Ah, right._

_The revolution._

_He's bleeding, he thinks, the side of his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably, wet and warm like molten lava._

_Dream smiles knowingly. His sword is tainted red._

_"You don't stand a chance", he says, teeth glinting dangerously, more animal than man now, a feral thing waiting to be provoked._

_Sapnap shifts uncomfortably. Tommy looks up at him. They make eye contact, fleeting and hopeless, and something flashes in Sapnap's eyes._

_Dream takes a step back, contemplating. Tommy grabs Tubbo's hand-_

_The pearl catapults them into the outside, darkness engulfing them from all sides._

_**We're safe** , Tommy thinks, and his vision blacks out. _

\---

Tommy's been living here as long as he can remember. His dirt shack stands proud at the end of the wooden pathway, and he likes to watch the sunrise in front of it. Sure, he doesn't have much, but he has his carrot farm and his little bench with his music box and that's enough.

And what is he to do when Dream tells him that owning music discs is forbidden? Or when Dream kills all of Tubbo's villagers? It's just the rules, and that's that.

Questioning the rules has never gotten anyone far.

(He watches the lemon tree go up in flames, feels the heat press into his skin and thinks, _If you're not careful you'll be next_.)

\---

Tommy sits in the caravan and waits. It's an old thing, the caravan, groaning everytime he walks, with paint chipping off the walls and falling onto the floor like leaves in autumn. 

Sometimes Tommy likes to think it's been here forever. Before Dream, George, and Sapnap founded their city, before anyone even knew there was land to be taken.

It doesn't make any sense, but it's a nice thought. Because if the caravan has always been here, so has Wilbur. 

And Tommy can't imagine a world where Wilbur isn't there, easy smile and soft voice always there to comfort him.

It's nice, in the caravan. Quiet and undisturbed and peaceful.

He picks at the floorboards. Outside, the sun dips beneath the horizon. 

The door creaks open and Tommy perks up. _Finally_.

Wilbur is big words in hushed tones, a conundrum in itself, upturned by tide and darkened by soot. He tells stories of far-off cities with buildings touching the sky, and when he coughs, smoke pours from his lungs. He's rough edges hidden by soft sweaters and quiet melodies, nothing at all and yet too much.

Tommy likes to just listen to him talk sometimes, to let himself have a break from the chaos and loudness everyone seems to associate with him.

He tells Wilbur about the villagers and his music disk and something ugly flashes in Wilbur's eyes, hot and molded by rage.

Tommy doesn't stay much longer.

\--- 

Tubbo tells him he's moving away soon. 

They're sitting on Tommy's porch watching the sunset. It's as good of a goodbye as any, spoken softly into the cold night. Tommy only hugs his knees closer to his chest and watches the moon come up.

"Why?" he says to no one in particular.

They both know exactly why.

"I can't tell you," Tubbo says. 

It's a lie. 

The next morning, Tubbo is gone.

\---

The ground in Tubbo's house is made of blackstone that shimmers ominously in the sunlight. Tommy sits on the floor and picks at the band aid on his knee. The house is empty now, abandoned and lifeless as if there had never been anyone there at all. A skeleton of its former self, a graveyard of memories- 

Wilbur sits down next to Tommy on the floor.

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know?"

Tommy leans his head against Wilbur's shoulder. He's so, so tired.

"We could make our own nation, down by the caravan. None of the Americans ever go there. It'll be just us." 

"Can Tubbo come?" Tommy asks blearily. 

"Of course, Tommy."

And that would be good, wouldn't it? Just Wilbur, Tubbo, and him, living by their own rules. Tommy's eyes fall shut.

(He dreams of freedom.) 

\---

There's a wall around the caravan. 

Tommy stares at it in wonder. 

It's made from the same blackstone he's seen in Tubbo's builds so many times before, the kind that requires another dimension and a stupid amount of bravery to get. 

On top, yellow spikes rake into the sky like crooked fingers reaching for the sun. 

Wilbur waves at him happily. 

He introduces Tommy to Eret, a tall man wearing dark sunglasses, even when they sit down inside the van.

Tommy knows Eret, at least somewhat, has seen his massive castle reach into the heavens a bit higher each day, darkening the sky and throwing a twisted shadow.

His armour glimmers in the flickering light, dangerous and promising destruction. 

(The enchantments on it are old and evil. Tommy has seen them before, lining scriptures about terrible wars. The air smells of death.)

But Eret himself seems nice enough, velvety voice and charismatic personality, just like Wilbur and yet not. He's smoothed down to perfection, rough edges not just hidden but non-existent, perfection presented on a silver plate.

Tommy feels as if there's something beneath the surface, boiling hot and horrid, something almost palpable.

Wilbur smiles at Eret's jokes. Tommy wonders if he's overreacting.

(The walls smother their little caravan in darkness and something ugly rears its head in the shadows.)

\---

The jungle is humid, blooming decay, a never-ending loop of life and death taking each other's place.

Tubbo has raised a temple out of the ground in the middle of it, bigger than anything he has ever seen.

Tommy stands and admires it for a bit.

(And he wonders why Tubbo left him for this.) 

When he steps inside, it's just as empty as his old house by the path, a building carved out for greatness with no one to admire it. It's meticulously clean and organized, a place to adore from afar but not to live in, and Tommy suddenly feels like he shouldn't have come inside at all.

Tubbo isn't there anyways. He sits down on the stairs leading up to the main entrance and watches as the jungle becomes alive at night, all loud noises and bright colours haunting the edge of his vision. 

"Tommy? What are you doing here?" 

He blinks awake to Tubbo standing in front of him. The darkness makes him barely recognizable, and with his face pulled taunt and edges amplified by shadow, Tubbo looks like someone to be feared.

 _He's powerful_ , Tommy realizes with a start and the memories of innocent machines become tainted by blood- 

Tommy tells him of the caravan and of the walls and of Eret. He tells Tubbo of freedom.

It's a dangerous seed he's planting, yet the promise of emancipation still lies heavy on his conscience, a constant reminder of what could be if they were brave enough.

He asks Tubbo if he'll come.

Tubbo says he might.

It's a small victory, in the end.

\---

Tommy doesn't know if this is what he wanted.

As he watches Fundy and Eret build little cabins within their walls, joking and laughing as if they'd known each other for years, he wonders if he's even still wanted here.

This, whatever _this_ is, has gone far beyond just running away: what lives in the shadows of the caravan is not friendship but revolution, seeping through the cracks and poisoning their minds. 

It's an instigator for war, their every action enough to push them off the brink. 

And Wilbur has designed uniforms. 

They're clearly preparing for war, yet none of them dare say it out loud.

Tommy wishes he could've just accepted his life as it was, simple but happy, flying under the radar for most of the time. He misses listening to music disks with Tubbo and talking to Wilbur at night, the world as his playground and no limitations to be seen. 

He talks to Wilbur about it.

But Wilbur has changed too, taken over by a quiet resentment that glints like gun metal in his eyes and a desperation running so deep that it has settled into his bones.

"Tommy", he says, "Don't you want freedom? No revolution becomes successful through peace. We have to fight for this." 

And he's right, isn't he? Wilbur's always been right. 

(He has to be right. Because there's no stopping what's to come, now.)

\---

_The declaration of Independence._

_Forever, the nation of Dream SMP have cast great sins upon our land of the hot dog van._

_They have robbed us. Imprisoned us. Threatened us. Killed many of our men._

_This time of tyranny ends with us._

_This book declares that the nation which henceforth should be known as L'Manberg is separate, emancipated and independent from the nation of Dream SMP._

_The union of the masters of men. Together we are one. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one to dissolve the bonds which bind us. Disregarding of this truth is nothing short of tyranny._

_We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal._

_The right of the people exists above the right of the king. The right of the government and the right of the economy._

_From the hot dog van we shall prevail._

_Life, Liberty and the pursuit of victory._

_Signed:_

_Wilbur_

_Tubbo_

_Tommy_

_Eret_

_Fundy_

\---

Tommy is choking, lungs filling with smoke and _he can't breathe can't see can't can't can't can't--_

The heat smothers him, pressing into his skin and melting the soles of his shoes as he struggles to regain his senses. 

Flames surround him, hot and red and bright, burning the image of purgatory into his eyelids, smoke leaving his mouth when he gasps for air.

He can't find the exit-

The smoke stings his eyes, and desperate tears roll down his face as the flames close in and breathlessness forces him on his knees. 

He's going to die. The realization hits him in between heaving breaths, staring down at his hands while the house above him aches and groans, an old thing collapsing in on itself, the last cry of a fallen giant.

Someone grabs him by the arm- 

A wave of nausea hits him, and suddenly he's on his knees by a river. He's still coughing violently, hands darkened by soot and eyes stained with smoke, he’s escaped from the fire yet forever trapped in it.

And in the distance, like a beacon, Tubbo's house is consumed by flames.

\--- 

They watch as Tubbo's house finally collapses in on itself. 

With it falls the last fragment of peace, the last memory of the past. Nothing will be the same again.

Wafts of smoke wash over them as they silently turn their backs to leave, behind them a husk of what their life once was and before them a sweet promise tainted by ash. 

"Why were you even in there?" Tubbo asks quietly. 

Tommy rubs his arm where the fingerprints of Tubbo grabbing him linger, and pulls up his shoulders.

"I don't know," he whispers into the inky darkness, "I guess I wasn't ready to let you go yet." 

Tubbo glances over at him- anger overshadowed by worry- and inches closer, empathy pooling in his eyes like warm honey.

And just like that, the ground under them opens up.

\---

It's not a terribly deep fall.

It hurts still, punches the air out of Tommy's lungs for just enough time to make him panic.

Tubbo isn't anymore fortunate; he lands heavily on his feet and the crack that resonates through the cave makes his stomach churn. 

They're stuck. 

He's the first to hear echoing footsteps approaching, a distant reminder that they're not safe here, never will be again, because of what they started.

Dream and Sapnap enter the cave, armour and weapons engraved with enchantments older than time and even more powerful, the picture of victory.

"What's this about a revolution I hear?" Dream says, tapping his fingers against his chin. It's a parody of contemplation, because he knows-

(Something heavy and cold settles into Tommy's bones. _He knows_.) 

"You know you don't have to do this, right? A revolution? Who even put you up for this? Tubbo, you're so smart, you know this can't be right! And Tommy, you should not let people just talk you into things you don't understand." 

"But- Wilbur said that the way you've been treating us is unfair," Tubbo mutters quietly. 

Dream's smile splinters. The false persona of caring cracks for just a millisecond, and Tommy feels the cold hatred radiating of Dream.

"Oh Wilbur, that fucking- He's lying to you! Just because we had our falling out doesn't mean I'm a bad person in general!" 

"You have been mean to us recently, though..." Tommy says defiantly.

"Come on, do you really want this?" Dream asks. His voice drips with faux pity. 

Tommy notices the cracks running along his mask, once white, now tainted by dirt and blood, film frame images of dictators running through his mind.

He nods.

Sapnap's body goes tense, rigid as if he'd expected a different answer. As if he wouldn't want to be here if he had the chance.

Dream sheds his nice persona like a piece of clothing. He sighs, dramatically, and grins, more a warning then a smile, all teeth and no humour.

"Then it has to be like this! Remember, you asked for this. We'll have no mercy." 

The leering grin splitting his face burns into Tommy's eyelids. A single thought crystallizes itself out of the mess in his head, bold and loud. _Predator_.

"Now", Dream draws a diamond sword, "Tell us all you know about this little... uprising." 

Pain erupts from his side, hot and searing like a volcano about to erupt. For a second, Dream looks shocked at the blood quickly staining Tommy's shirt, until he shakes his head and the ruthless smile returns. He points his sword at Tommy's neck.

Tommy looks over at Tubbo.

The cave is dim and the moist dirt on the walls shines in the light of the torches, glossy in the bad lighting.

Tubbo's eyes are open wide, more sclera than pupils, flitting from Sapnap to Dream to Tommy in one frightful loop.

Tommy blinks.

Dream is pointing a sword at him.

Ah, right. 

They're trapped.

He's bleeding, he thinks, the side of his shirt sticking to his body uncomfortably, wet and warm like molten lava.

Dream smiles knowingly. His sword is tainted red.

"You don't stand a chance", he says, teeth glinting dangerously, more animal than man now, a feral thing waiting to be provoked.

Sapnap shifts uncomfortably. Tommy looks up at him. They make eye contact, fleeting and hopeless, and something flashes in Sapnap's eyes.

 _We used to be friends_ , Tommy thinks, _We could've been friends._

He opens his mouth. 

"You will fall", he spits out, anger boiling his words into something barely recognizable, tainted by rage and twisted by fear.

Tubbo looks over at him. Scared. He looks small in the uniform, blue and white and red, golden buttons and sleeves two sizes too big, all bark and no bite, a gentle breeze against a hurricane.

Tommy twists his lips into something like a smile.

"We will not tolerate tyranny." 

Dream seethes, blood painting his face like freckles as he presses his sword against Tommy's neck harder. It draws blood. Tommy feels it run down his neck, into his collar. He can't help but wonder if his shirt will be ruined now, if Wilbur will be mad at him for ruining it. If they'll let Tubbo go if he just says what they want.

He feels like he'll pass out soon. His shirt sticks to his body. His neck aches. His vision blurs- 

No, Tommy can't, not now, not when the chances are high they'll just let him die, not when Tubbo needs him to get out. He wishes Wilbur were here. 

"This is useless," Sapnap says, "They don't even have any intel, and if the rest of them cared they would've come to save them already." 

Tubbo deflates at that. Tommy thinks back to when he would see Tubbo and Sapnap plan machines and buildings and pathways out together, friends in their own right. He swallows thickly. 

Dream takes a step back, contemplating. Tommy grabs Tubbo's hand- 

The pearl catapults them into the outside, darkness engulfing them from all sides.

 _We're safe_ , Tommy thinks, and his vision blacks out.

\---

Wilbur stands on the walls surrounding L'Manberg.

Around him, the world blurs into reds and yellows and oranges, a picture of destruction.

It's an inferno, consuming their trees and darkening their sky with black smoke, coating their walls and sticking to Wilbur's skin.

He keeps his hands folded behind his back and eyes pointedly looking forward.

He knows what's about to come, knows the inevitability of bloodshed better than anyone else, yet once again finds himself unable to stop it. 

Inside the caravan, his friends sleep peacefully.

It's all he has left.

(It's all there ever was.) 

Nature weeps and the sun comes up red, bloodshed on the horizon and a war in the distance.

Wilbur climbs down the wall and wakes his friends.

It's time.

\---

_The declaration of war._

_L'Manberg. We are at war. There is no mercy._

_We have burned down Tubbo's house, we have installed cannons around your land and we have shot one warning shot inside your walls._

_We have no mercy for you._

_We will burn down your houses. We will kill everyone inside your walls._

_And we will take back the land that is rightfully ours._

_We want to see white flags outside your base by dawn tomorrow or we shall commence with our attack._

_Dream SMP._

\---

A red sun rises over the caravan.

Eret tells him a red sky in the morning promises bloodshed during the day.

Tommy tells him he doesn't believe in old wives' tales.

Yet they all know what not putting up the white flag entails, that war is now as inevitable as the death following it.

A certain hopelessness comes with it, a draining realization of sorrow.

(They know they can't win.)

Wilbur's eyes look empty. Drained. 

He smiles at them weakly as they slip into their armour and grab their weapons.

(They all know this is hopeless.)

Tubbo doesn't speak at all. He fiddles with the buttons of his too long uniform and looks at the world like a man at the end of his days.

(He might as well be.)

Fundy hides behind careful nonchalance, a mask about to break apart at the seams. He looks haunted, half dead already.

(Aren't they all ghosts? What awaits them at the end of the path surely seems like death.)

Tommy feels almost lethargic, desperation growing ever stronger until there's nothing of him left. He wishes it could've been different.

(Different. In a different universe, they run away. There's peace on endless roads and evergreen forests, not behind walls and declarations. In a different universe, happiness greets them on open fields and in blue skies.) 

Eret smiles knowingly. He twirls his weapon in one hand and looks up at the sky. He looks as if he has nothing to fear.

(It's probably nothing. But possibly everything.)

\---

"Tommy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I appoint you as my right hand man. This is your war as much as it is mine. Lead our men to victory." 

\---

They arrive at the embassy early in the morning.

Dream and his group are already waiting for them, all wearing heavy armour engraved with whispering enchantments and wielding meticulously sharpened swords. 

Tommy looks at his friends.

Royal colours bleeding through light armour, weapons cheap and dull. It’s like David versus Goliath.

Wilbur steps up to talk to Dream.

It's their last chance at peace.

"Dream", he says carefully, "We're not too fond of violence in L'Manberg. We don't want to use our weapons to settle this issue if we could rather just talk it out. This is nothing but unnecessary bloodshed." 

Dream laughs. It's a horrid thing, unhinged and loud, enough to make Tubbo flinch.

"Talk!", Dream says incredulously, "We gave you an opportunity, yet you refused to take it! I see no white flags in L'Manberg, so we won't negotiate with you." 

He turns his back, throws a single flint and steel on the ground and bolts.

A hissing reverberates across the field and suddenly, the ground beneath them opens up in a horrid smile, a ginormous mouth attempting to swallow them whole, hell reaching out from beneath trying to drag them down.

The blast throws Tommy against the wall of the embassy. Someone is screaming and Tubbo and Fundy are scrambling to get inside the building, debris crumbling away beneath their feet as they run. 

He blinks. Turns his head.

Wilbur and Eret are already standing inside the house, gesturing towards the tower worriedly.

Blood stains Wilbur's hair where some of the debris must have hit him and his hands are darkened by dirt and mud, yet Eret seems to be just fine. 

Tommy wonders how that could be, until someone grabs his arm and pulls him up.

It's Fundy, roughly shoving him through the door, as an arrow lodges itself into the wall, just where Tommy's head had been seconds before.

His ears are still ringing.

"-shooting at us! We need to retaliate! Tubbo, you have a bow, right? Well go, they're on the tower, shot!" 

Tommy sees how Tubbo's arm shakes. He wonders if he's forced Tubbo to fight a war against his own friends.

Another arrow whizzes past him. He thinks that if they've ever been friends, they'd never be again.

Tommy takes out his own bow and starts firing.

Dream has started setting his arrows on fire and they watch as what's still left of the embassy catches fire and comes apart in front of them, a part of history just erased. Tommy's pretty sure they haven't hit a single shot yet, while they've been hit more frequently, red staining the floor and metallic smell haunting their minds like the thought of freedom.

And just like that, Dream's team retreats.

\--- 

"They're going up the tower!", Tubbo shouts.

"Well, that only leaves us with one option. We go up the Punz's tower. It's taller-" 

"And definitely a trap." 

"There's nothing else we can do." 

\--- 

Punz's tower is huge, so far up in the sky that clouds pass by under them. From up here, the destruction they've already left behind looks horrifying, a gaping hole where there once was Tommy's home, the embassy, nothing but craters left behind.

It fills him with something close to rage, blinding and searing hot. 

Tommy takes his bow and shoots at the silhouettes he can barely make out on the other tower.

His arrow hits home.

There's a cry of pain, a dull thump and then, silence.

They wait for a bit, yet no arrows ever come flying back.

"They've retreated!" Wilbur shouts, "We won! We won a battle!" 

And he's right, isn't he? Wilbur's always been right. He has to be. Because they can't keep this up much longer. 

"We should go back to L'Manberg. It's easier to defend than the tower. Come on boys!", Eret grins up at them victoriously and Tommy thinks that they might have a chance after all.

\--- 

At the end of the wooden pathway, L'Manberg and its walls stand like a sanctuary. 

Tommy leans on Tubbo as they walk, ears still ringing and vision blurring with every odd step, feeling defeated despite victory.

He doesn't know how long they'll be able to continue this.

They may have won their first battle, but the war has only just begun.

Death stands proudly on the battlefield, scythe raised and eyes full of silent understanding. Knowing. Watching. 

Its gaze follows them long after they're out of sight.

They enter L'Manberg, staggering and heaving yet still standing undefeated, warriors of freedom in royal colours, still nothing but kids playing dress up. 

Tommy supposes war is cruel like that.

"Gentleman", Eret says, "There's something I have to show you." 

Tommy sways slightly. He wishes he could just lie down.

"For the last few days, I've been preparing and getting us the resources needed to defeat Dream. If you would just follow me?" 

Wilbur makes the decision for them and Eret leads them into a small hallway carved into a mountain, damp dirt walls closing in from every side.

They walk in silence. Tommy wonders if this'll save them. 

The tunnel reaches deep into the mountain, all twisting turns and dirt crumbling away beneath their fingertips, yet they reach their destination quicker than expected. 

_Final Control Room._

"Here, there's our.... secret weapon, if you will? All the resources I've managed to gather. Come in!"

They all stumble into the room after Eret's lead, magnificent blackstone carved into a little bunker with chests in every corner.

Wilbur opens one of them- 

Tommy feels something shift under his feet- 

"The chests are empty", someone yells- 

And suddenly, the walls around them open up.

\--- 

There's a moment of silence where time seems to pass in slow motion, as thoughts race through Tommy's head at back breaking speeds.

He sees people burst out the walls, fully decked out in armour, and wonders if it's all his fault. 

Maybe it was.

In his periphery, he sees Fundy get in position and draw his sword, he sees Wilbur's grim determination glimmering in his eyes, he sees Tubbo's frightened look and drawn sword and thinks, maybe, he could've prevented this.

Does it even matter now to contemplate the actions of your past? 

Eret smiles- 

"Down with the revolution, boys. It was never meant to be."

-and reality kicks back in.

"Run!" Wilbur yells and suddenly his feet are pounding against the dirt, running, running, running, as if it's all he has ever known and all that he will ever need, ragged breathing and aching legs as familiar to him as the sun rising in the morning. 

Out of the cave and the hallway, into the sprawling forest of L'Manberg, don't stop don't look behind lest the past catch up with you.

He hides in the caravan, hoping the others will have the same idea. 

Wilbur, Fundy, and Tubbo arrive shortly after.

They all sit on the floor for a while, silent, thinking. There's nothing left for them, no weapons or armour or potions, no hope of victory. Tommy thinks Tubbo might be crying.

"We have to surrender," Wilbur says, "I wouldn't be a good general if I kept on leading my armies into battles we can't win." 

Tommy supposes if he could cry, he would too.

\--- 

Wilbur goes to meet Dream alone.

\--- 

They stand by the wreckage of the embassy, a testament to the destruction this war has caused already.

No fatalities.

Wilbur straightens his back, meets Dream's eyes, and takes one last, long breath. 

"I can't believe you would put up our own men against us," he says quietly. It's not what he meant to say, words spilling from his mouth with no meaning and he hides his shaking hands in the pockets of his coat.

Dream laughs at that.

"You know what they say, Wilbur, all is fair in war." 

'And love,' Wilbur wants to say. He bites his tongue - one treacherous sentence would be enough to destroy whatever fragile chance at peace they still have.

"Dream," he says instead, "Your men committed great wrongs against my people. I let it go- I let it slide, under the condition that we would have emancipation from you, that we would have our freedom and we wouldn't have to reach a point of disagreement." 

Wilbur glances at the destruction surrounding him, one long, calculating stare at what has crumbled away beneath his very feet.

"Now obviously," he continues, "This didn't sit well with you. We have suffered a lot of losses on both sides, my side a little bit more heavily. Still, the both of us suffered greatly. That's why I'm here to negotiate with you." 

"Go on," Dream says. He's leaning on the hilt of his sword, the very picture of confidence, a king who has never been dethroned.

Wilbur feels the urge to scoff. He knows he can't.

"We don't wish for bloodshed. We don't wish for war. We don't wish to show our power in any way, we just want... freedom." 

"Would you like to know what I want, Wilbur? I want white flags up inside your land, declaring your surrender and that you're in fact not an independent nation." 

Wilbur blinks. "That's-" 

"I will tell you this, 'General,' if I don't see white flags in thirty minutes, I will blow up your land." 

"You-" Wilbur's voice shakes. He closes his eyes, collects himself. "You don't have the power or capacity to blow up L'Manberg." 

"Oh yeah, let's go right now then!"

Dream smiles and jumps the wooden fence with practiced ease.

"Come on, Wilbur! Let's go together!" 

Within seconds, Dream is gone, swallowed by trees and thick foliage. 

Wilbur stares into the forest after him for a second, frozen to the spot.

"What have you done," he mutters, "What have you done?!" 

\--- 

The air is thick with something almost tangible, a spike of electricity running through him.

Something's wrong.

Wilbur bolts.

\---

"Wilbur?"- 

"What's going on?"- 

"Listen", Wilbur says calmly, "Dream's given us an ultimatum. And I want all of you to resound with me our answer. He's said that if we do not rescind our ownership of this land, he'll light this piece of TNT." 

"Independence or Death," Tubbo echoes solemnly.

"Exactly. Independence or death. If we can't have our independence, we want nothing. We would rather die than to give in to your tyranny." 

Dream smiles at them from the gates of L'Manberg, all teeth glinting viciously and eyes dulled, taken over by the need to be victorious. He plants down the TNT.

"Step back, everyone, don't let this one piece of TNT hurt you," Wilbur mocks. 

His words fall flat as for the second time, the ground opens up underneath them.

\--- 

A series of explosions wrecks through L'Manberg, tearing open the ground through sheer force, rivers flowing into deep craters. The caravan explodes into a thousand magnificent pieces, a firework of technology as the land unravels beneath their feet.

And in the rubble of reality, someone screams- 

"Follow me! Come on, down here!"

\--- 

Tommy helps them down into a tight, frankly claustrophobic tunnel. It winds for miles under the earth, meandering like gusts of wind.

Sometimes the tunnel shrinks down so much that they have to crawl through the dirt, while other times it gets high enough for Wilbur to stretch his arms towards the ceiling. 

There's a bunker, at the end, fortified by obsidian, a little music box in the centre.

Tommy ushers them all inside, before blocking off the exit.

"I made this," he mutters, "Because, you know, I thought odds are we're not gonna win this war and uh, frankly, I don't think we can actually win this anymore. All we have left is each other." 

He takes a music disk out of one of the chests and places it into the jukebox. 

Music echoes through the bunker like the haunting call of the past. For a little while they're all quiet, solemnly listening to the music as it fades out.

"I really don't know how long we have left," Tommy admits, "Any last words?" 

"Will, this is the point where you pull out the sly last move. Please?" 

Wilbur doesn't dare look at Fundy. He knows the desperation he'll see in Fundy's eyes will be too much to bear, a last spark of hope vanishing into darkness.

He shakes his head.

"There's no… sly last move. We have such low chances of victory that we- We probably need to accept the conditions of surrender. Tommy, I want you to come with me to meet Dream." 

Quietly, Wilbur wonders where the light in Tommy's eyes has gone.

\---

"Tommy, you were a good right hand man. It's just a shame that it has to end like this… looking for surrender on our own land. But there's one thing you have to promise me. When we negotiate with Dream, do not run your mouth. No- no challenging Dream on his honour, or-"

"I promise, Wilbur." 

\---

Dream waits for them, just outside of what used to be L'Manberg. The sun settles behind his head comfortably, lighting up his hair as if it were a halo, angel of death crowned by the dying sun.

"Look, Dream, we came to negotiate our surrender. We fought well-" 

"I guess you could say that." 

Tommy's eyes light up with burning rage, seething and ready to boil over- 

Wilbur places a hand on his shoulder-

Tommy pushes him off.

"You know, Dream, why don't we have a duel right now? One on one, bow duel, at least that'll be a fair fight! You stupid, egotistical-" 

"Tommy, please-" Wilbur starts. 

Tommy turns to him, modern day Icarus, boiling hot rage melting his wings.

"No, Wilbur. I have to do this. What do we have to lose? I don't care, I really don't. Come on Dream, a one on one duel in front of everyone! That would boost your ego, wouldn't it?" 

"What are the details of the duel?" Dream asks. There's a hint of disbelief in his voice and despite himself, Wilbur smiles.

"One versus one. Bow duel. Ten paces," Tommy says.

"If you win, you get your independence. If you lose, L'Manberg will never be independent from Dream SMP. And- I get your disks, Tommy." 

And like a star rising, hope blooms in Wilbur's chest.

\---

"Wilbur, what happens if I miss?" Tommy looks frantic, eyes full of desperation and hope, shaking hands hidden behind his back.

"Tommy, this was your condition. I told you, your passion and your fire in your heart is brilliant for the war, but in these situations it's not good."

Wilbur watches Dream line up on the path, a predator circling its prey and wishes he didn't already know that it's all over.

"You really got yourself into a mess now." 

"Do I shoot him Will, or do I aim for the skies?" 

"I want you to do whatever your heart says. Just- Meet him face to face." 

\---

It's sundown. 

They meet on the wooden pathway, right by the socialising club.

Dream on one side, pacing with barely contained bloodlust and Tommy on the other, quietly gazing up into the night sky.

Tubbo stands by his side, silent. 

Wilbur looks at them under the golden light and sees them for what they are; nothing but children, pawns sacrificed in a game of chess. 

He wishes desperately for this to turn out ok.

"I don't necessarily agree with your approach but- Good luck.", Fundy says quietly.

He hands Tommy a bow, new and forged with strong materials. Tubbo hands him his arrows.

It's not a goodbye this time, no tearful reminder of friendship, but a promise, an underlying message.

'You can do it. We believe in you.'

Tommy accepts it gratefully.

"Backs to each other", Wilbur commands. He forces firmness into his voice. "I will count ten paces. When I say the word 'Fire', you may turn around and fire at each other. Do you both understand?" 

They nod. 

"1".

They both take a step. Tommy's eyes are hardened by determination.

"2." 

Dream's mask conceals his eyes well enough for no one to see worry shining in them.

"3." 

Tubbo looks up at the sky weakly. It's almost night. He wonders if he'll be able to wake up from this nightmare anytime soon.

"4." 

Sapnap and George share a look. In silent understanding, they move closer to each other.

"5".

Fundy looks at the bow in Tommy's hand and thinks that maybe, he should've stopped Tommy from this. Maybe the loss of independence will be on him after all.

"6."

Eret stands in between both sides. Are any of them even his friends at all? 

"7" 

Tommy stumbles slightly but catches himself in time. His knees shake.

"8." 

Wilbur has to force himself to continue counting.

"9."

Tubbo flinches. The sun has almost dipped under the horizon now, and the night promises to be fittingly cold.

"10."

Dream turns around a millisecond before Tommy- 

He draws his bow-

Tommy watches as his arrow whizzes by Dream's head by an inch- 

The arrow strikes him right between the ribs. 

\--- 

Tommy stumbles for a second.

He wonders what has happened, is almost about to lecture Tubbo for shoving him too hard until his eyes focus on Dream on the other end of the path.

Oh. 

Did the duel already start? 

Tommy reaches for his bow- 

It's not there. 

He raises his hands to his face- 

They're stained by blood- 

He must've lost, then.

Profound sadness follows the shock, and his legs give out under him.

\--- 

"I expect the disk soon, Tommy." 

\---

He opens his eyes and the pain is gone. 

There's an emptiness there now, an aching thing waiting to swallow him whole, shame and sadness mixed into one.

He can't bear to look at his friends, he thinks as he watches them talk from a few meters away.

As quietly as he can, he gets up from his makeshift bed and sneaks into the direction of his house.

There's one last thing he can do.

\---

"I'll let you have both of my disks if you grant us our Independence. Cat and Mellohi. I know you- you want them, don't you?" Tommy says quietly.

Dream looks down at him from where he's standing. 

"That is a very, very interesting deal, Tommy," Dream answers, smiling dangerously, "How incredibly selfless of you." 

"For L'Manberg. For Wilbur, and Tubbo and Fundy." He straightens his back, meets Dream's gaze head-on, "For them."

Dream cocks his head. Grins. 

"Fine, then! I'll give you… _technical_ independence. We won't be at war, under the condition that I get both your disks." 

Tommy nods. 

If that's what it takes.

\---

"Tommy?! Where were you? We were worried sick!"

"Wilbur I-... I secured our independence." 

Stunned silence. Wilbur blinks, shakes his head.

"You- You… What?" 

"I gave him the disks, Wilbur, I-" 

"The disks?" Tubbo asks incredulously, "We fought a war for those!"

"It doesn't matter, Tubbo! Because we have what's so much greater than any physical item: Freedom." 

They all look at each other for a second, silent, unbelieving.

Then, Tommy smiles slightly.

"It's ok, guys. I have you all now. I don't really need the disks anymore." 

It's true. 

And as the sun sets over L'Manberg, a single, golden thing, hope once again takes form in their hearts.

Because they're free, aren't they? 

It's all they ever wanted.

Everything is finally okay.

\--- 

_The decree_.

_As we gaze upon the swaths of redwood trees, the great hills to our south and the walls that have protected us, I, the first president of L'Manberg hereby state that from now on, L'Manberg shall be an independent, emancipated nation._

_No longer shall we suffer the tyranny of the Dream SMP, no longer shall our nation be attacked and oppressed._

_This decree declares not only our independence, but peace, and the dedication to uphold what we have built._

_Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of freedom._

_Signed:_

_President Wilbur Soot_

_Vice President Tommy_

_Secretary of State Tubbo_

_Fundy_

\--- 

L'Manberg will not fall.

**Author's Note:**

> This took so long to write,,,,  
> There's a lot of details that I forgot to add into this fic, like that everyone in L'Manberg was supposed to wear no armour but please consider that most of this was written at 3am, so there's bound to be some mistakes skgdhsks  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! 
> 
> Huge thanks to @artemiswastaken on twitter for beta'ing this entire 6k epic for me! Without her help, the flow of this entire thing wouldn't even be half as good (nevermind the grammar,,,)  
> Another thanks to @_overzea_ for all the nice words and encouragement, it really does mean a lot. Without her, this story probably would've never even been finished.
> 
> If you liked this, also feel free to follow me on Twitter @honeydowo!


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